


stole our new lives

by Gondolin



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢Ω | Saint Seiya Omega
Genre: Angst, Blanket Permission, F/M, M/M, Multi, No Plot, Polyamory, Ryuho could have had three parents and instead here we are, Slice of Life, i am BITTER about our heroes being robbed of a chance at peace, post final battle with Mars, post season 1 finale of Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gondolin/pseuds/Gondolin
Summary: Shiryu and Seiya haven't seen each other in over ten years.
Relationships: Dragon Shiryū/Pegasus Seiya, Dragon Shiryū/Shunrei
Kudos: 16





	stole our new lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hikary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikary/gifts).



> what up Shiryu and Seiya are almost FORTY YEARS OLD and I'm not coping with this fact
> 
> I am listening to 30 Seconds to Mars and crying about my own Saint Seiya fanfic like it's 2009. What a year. Anyway the playlist for this is the entire album [America](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL0Wp1Jg6TX1SjCksTlcqQlTFd4zSoUhgo) (the tagline of this album is "the return of Mars" and honestly, the irony...)

“You’re being too harsh on Ryūhō.”

Shiryu opened his eyes to see Seiya standing right in front of him. He had, of course, felt his approach from a distance, but he hadn’t moved to greet him. He wasn’t quite sure why. He’d never been terribly demonstrative, not even when he was younger, and - he hadn’t seen Seiya in over ten years, and maybe, just maybe he could admit to being afraid. Afraid of the way his heart seized up, afraid of the tide of nostalgia and longing that roared deep inside him, loud enough to drown out the sound of the waterfall.

All this, and still, Seiya managed to derail his every thought and make him angry instead. He was fourteen again, needing to prove himself, a tangled mess of feelings barely held together by discipline and self-control. How dare Seiya come all this way just to tell him how to raise his child. Him, who’d gotten himself almost killed protecting Kōga and had left him.

 _Ah._ So that was it then, the bitter taste at the back of his throat.

Still, Seiya had no right. Without even a hello.

“I missed you.”

One-two, a sucker punch of honesty that left Shiryu reeling.

He bit his lip to avoid answering “then you shouldn’t have left”. It wasn’t fair. Saori had needed him, and he’d always known where Seiya’s loyalties lie. Both their loyalties, when it came right down to it, and he couldn’t begrudge him that. That was what they were, over everything else: Saints first.

“Are you really here to give me a lecture about parenting?” He answered instead, which wasn’t much better.

Seiya winced. “I didn’t- Look, the kid came back looking like a kicked puppy. And I’m… I’m only sad I couldn’t tell him he was right, that the fight was over. It should be. It should be!” He kicked a pebble and watched it disappear into the water. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders tense, his posture terrible as alway when he was out of armour.

His gestures were exactly the same as they had been when he was an angry thirteen-year-old, which only emphasised how much he’d changed. He looked older. Shiryu imagined he did too, but Seiya… he looked tired now. Almost bitter. There were lines around his eyes and his cosmo felt worn thin - still brighter than an explosion of stars, still warm despite everything, but fading ever so slightly, more ash than fire.

Shiryu remembered fighting with Seiya - against him, beside him. It was so long ago, it was hard to believe. Memories turned into stories, as if they had happened to someone else. When he thought of his old master now, Shiryu often thought about how hard it must have been to live with all the memories, more than anything else. How does one survive such a long life? How does one survive the peace after the battle?

“I missed you,” Seiya repeated, undeterred, and sat down beside him, so close Shiryu could feel the heat from his body as well as from his cosmo.

“I wasn’t… awake for most of it. Not entirely, but part of my consciousness… I could feel time passing, I could… it was like…. well, I don’t know. But I thought about you, sometimes, when I resurfaced. Imagining you here, safe, was my escape. Of course you weren’t…. quite _safe_ , I know now. I could have… I wish I could have protected you. But I knew Shunrei was here, and Ryūhō, and I thought if I could come back and see you were all still here one last time then I’d never ask for anything else again.”

Shiryu’s fists clenched into the fabric of his trousers, white knuckled and nearly trembling with tension. How many times had he thought about those precious few years of respite himself? How many times had he escaped to the memory of one particular sunny afternoon -

_There was a smudge of flour on Seiya’s cheek. Shunrei had been teaching him how to make dumplings, while Shiryu had been teaching Ryūhō to swim in the quiet shallows of the river at the bottom of the waterfall. He was sitting on the shore now, feet still in the cool water, Ryūhō on his knees babbling away in a mix of words and random sounds. He was so incredibly small, Shiryu couldn’t stop staring at his soft round face, his thin dark hair and minuscule hands. That was his son. His son._

_“He’ll beat Shun’s puppy eyes, just you wait,” Seiya said, laughter in every line of his face. He leaned down to kiss Shiryu’s cheek. Then he took off his shirt and ran into the water. Shunrei was following behind, unbuttoning her blouse as she went. She dropped her clothes next to Seiya’s, kissed Shiryu’s other cheek, then walked in with much more grace and poise. She waved at them from the water and Ryūhō babbled happily._

_Shiryu’s heart was full to bursting._

“I also missed you,” he whispered, proud that he managed not to sound entirely choked up.

Seiya seemed to take this as permission, and took one of Shiryu’s fists in his hands. His hands, so warm and rough and _real…_

A wet sob escaped him, and a moment later Shiryu was pulling him into a bone crushing hug, like holding on tight enough would put back the pieces of himself.

**Author's Note:**

> All I want is to make Hikary cry about old men.
> 
> Please talk to me if you are in this fandom and you too have feelings about child soldiers in shining armour. I have a rarely used [tumblr](https://okonomiyaki-saint.tumblr.com) and an even more rarely used [twitter](https://twitter.com/Gondolin12).


End file.
